


together in (un)consciousness.

by slashhearts



Category: Motorcity
Genre: Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Insomnia, M/M, Self-Doubt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-25 01:52:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/947209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashhearts/pseuds/slashhearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike's had it rough the past several days. He can't sleep and he can feel it. Yet, he trudges on. Until a fellow Burner checks in with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	together in (un)consciousness.

**Author's Note:**

> So uh, first submission, hooray! I've had this sitting in my documents for awhile now, so here y'all go. Not sure if I should leave it as a one-shot or not though. We'll see...

The city was dim. A low rumbling off in the distance settled into the scenery, supplying the soundtrack to the twinkling horizon. If there was a sky, Mike would be sure there would be clouds hanging over, with the moon peeking through the breaks in between every now and again. 

But there was no sky. Just the underside of Deluxe, a mass of metal, cold and drab. 

The sun was supposed to come up in four hours. Right now was the time to sleep like a normal person. In a world like this, living a life like this, there is no normal though. Not anymore at least. Mike usually welcomed the adrenaline rushes he’d get during some of the more intense moments, but it was as if his body had run out of it. Days of constant fighting and battle-driving took its toll on the Burner leader, leaving him with haunting impressions of Kanebots scavenging the city and citizens in danger whenever he closed his eyes. 

So he didn’t sleep. If he couldn’t close his eyes and nod off, then what was the point in trying? Better to stay up and anticipate any disturbance, right? Right. That’s what Mike told himself. 

This was the sixth night in a row he’s stayed up. The hideout ran out of coffee by the third and Jacob was still working on getting more. Mike always made sure to leave just as the rest of the team was drifting off, not wanting to disturb them on his quest for caffeine. For the most part, they didn’t even notice. At this point, they were used to it. It wasn’t a good thing to get used to, they all realized, but sometimes it was best to let a man go and sort things out for himself. 

On his drives, Mike would scour the city, looking for any place that served coffee. He would find a late-night coffee shop and order himself a couple of espressos with extra shots. That’d be enough to sustain him until 3 or 4, when the shops usually close. With not much else to do, he’d drive around a bit more until he’d settle on some out-of-the-way vantage point above Motorcity; a stray skyscraper or mountain of rubble was all that he needed. 

Sitting on Mutt’s hood, Mike watched over the city. He could feel the extra energy fading from him, leaving him depleted and wanting more. The tired settled into his chest and weighed him down. It was obvious that he wasn’t getting enough rest, but whatever he was doing had to do for now. 

Staying up wasn’t the hard part; Mike had done countless all-nighters in the past. It was keeping himself preoccupied that proved to be more difficult. One can only clean out and tune up their car so many times before even that loses what little entertainment value it warranted in the first place. Self-reflection was necessary and important and all, but Mike was a man of action. Sparkstaff training was uneventful and was boring without a sparring partner, giving little gratification, only a little nausea and some perspiration. 

All the same, the hours would pass, and Mike would find himself heading back to the hideout. Driving seemed like an afterthought to him. Instead, his mind was filled with tireless questions about battle tactics, driving strategies, whether or not they could counter whatever new plan Kane threw at them, and on and on until the garage door closed behind him and he was on his way to his room to change. 

He passed through the kitchen and living space when he heard someone call out to him. 

“Welcome back.”

The sudden greeting had jolted Mike out of his spiraling thought process. He spun around to find Chuck sitting on the sofa, his comm screen displayed in front of him. He rested his hands in his lap as he looked up at Mike and away from the scrolling pages of code. 

“Oh, hey Chuckles,” Mike chuckled. “Didn’t see you there, bud. Caught me by surprise.”

The blond looked down at his screen for a second before turning back to Mike. He tucked his hair behind his ear as he spoke, low and soft, “Where were you?”

“Just out for a drive,” Mike shrugged, walking over to lean up against the wall. “Same old, same old.”

“Aren’t you tired?” came another question. Mike couldn’t see them, but he could feel Chuck’s eyes piercing right through him. 

“I should be asking you the same,” Mike deflected. “What are you doing up?”

“Sprucing up some firewalls and defensive measures,” Chuck gestured to his screen, still staring at Mike. “Couldn’t sleep tonight.”

“That makes two of us.”

They stared at each other for a few minutes. Mike tried to read Chuck’s expression, but with Chuck’s hair in his face and his mouth turned in a simple frown, he gave up and looked away. 

“I shouldn’t keep you then.” 

Mike turned back for his room, but he could feel a bony hand gripping his shoulder. Chuck’s hand. 

“Mikey...” Chuck muttered. “Mikey, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong...” Mike reached up and took Chuck’s hand off of his shoulder, holding it. “I’m having a little trouble sleeping, but it’s nothing big, really.”

“Mike...” Chuck’s lips curled into a frown as he gripped Mike’s hand harder. “What do you mean, a little trouble sleeping? There’s more to it than that, isn’t there?”

“C’mon, Chuck,” Mike attempts to reassure him were feeble at best. Even his trademark shoulder grip wasn’t working. “You don’t have to worry so much. Like I said there’s noth–”

“Will you stop kidding yourself for five minutes?!”

Chuck was shaking now, hands to his side and balled into fists. His outburst surprised the both of them, loud enough to make an impact, but not enough to wake anyone up. He took a few puffs of breath, his chest rising and falling in time before he found the courage to talk again. 

“Please, just, just for five minutes...” Chuck stammered. “H-How are you? I mean, like, what’s gotten into you? In like a not-offensive kind of way.”

Mike chuckled. He could feel the stress in him lessening with each huff of breath. Slightly awash with relief, the shorter Burner walked over to the sofa and sat down, patting the space next to him. Chuck followed, watching Mike, a frown still on his face.

“I’m serious, y’know,” the blond pouted. 

“I know, I know,” Mike held his hands up in defense. “Sorry, it’s just... I needed that.”

“Needed what?”

“I’m not sure. Must’ve been your way with words.”

“Mikey.”

“Right, serious, okay.” 

Mike closed his eyes and took a deep breath, holding it in for a couple of seconds before exhaling. He looked to Chuck and spoke, 

“The past few days have been... hard to get through, I’ll admit. Normally, I’d be okay with all this constant fighting and with you guys by my side, I wouldn’t have much to worry about...”

Mike trailed off, his chest swelling up again. Chuck stared at him intently until he started up again,

“Does it ever bother you guys? Being in constant danger and everything? Like, if you had any other option, would you choose it over this one?”

“Mike...”

“Because I’m thinking and... So many lives depend on us Chuck. I... What if we fail?”

“We won’t.” 

“How—”

“Because we won’t.”

Another pause. The neon lights buzzed, hovering above them, filling the air. Mike sought for something to say, his mouth struggling to form any sort of verbal response. Chuck’s expression softened, a small, reassuring smile on his lips. 

“We’re not going to fail because we’re the best at what we do. This will always be true,” Chuck started, looking down at his hands, answering the questions the Mike knew but couldn’t ask. “I don’t know anyone who has a bigger, more righteous spirit than you Mikey.

“So don’t worry,” Chuck put a hand on Mike’s shoulder, grinning now. “Because I believe in you, and the rest of the Burners believe in you, and Motorcity believes in you. You won’t do us wrong, I know it.”

Mike huffed, staring down at his hands. Chuck was right; as long as they kept up the fight, it’ll all work out in the end. Maybe he was just being too impatient. He smiled up at Chuck, eyes shining with renewed purpose. 

“Since when were you the motherly one? You trying to steal my thunder?” 

“Everyone needs a little reassurance sometimes,” Chuck replied, standing to get up. “Well, in my case, all of the time — but... we’re all allowed our weaknesses and insecurities, Mikey. You just gotta have a backup system in place to help you through it.”

He stretched for a bit, letting out a drawn-out yawn while Mike watched on. 

“I’m gonna go to bed. Knowing Kane, we’ll probably have our hands tied again tomorrow. G’night, Mikey. See you in a–”

“...Wait.”

It took a minute for Chuck to register the arms around him and the chin on his shoulder as Mike’s, but when he did, he bowed his head and reached up to hold his arms tight. Mike’s musk wafted off of him; Chuck took a breath and inhaled a mix of sweat, coffee, and that familiar scent of Mutt that excited and calmed him all at once. 

“Tell me it’s going to be alright,” Mike whispered. His voice was shaky and soft, his fists gripping Chuck’s shirt. He took his head off of Chuck’s shoulder and buried it into his back now.

“Tell me we’re making a difference,” Mike clutched tighter onto Chuck’s shirt. “Tell me this isn’t for nothing.”

“Mikey—”

“Tell me!”

Chuck could feel Mike’s chest rising and falling with each breath he took. He took a moment before he turned around and held Mike in his arms, smoothing over his back and resting his chin on top of his head. 

“We’re winning this war, Mikey,” Chuck soothed, holding the other man close. “We are. We’re changing the tides and doing great things here. Don’t lose faith.” 

Mike looked up at Chuck, his eyes glossed over and red. His chest felt heavy and he could feel himself ready to break apart at a moment’s notice. Chuck was the only thing keeping him together. But hearing his words, and the smile on the lips that spoke them, the weight of the world was lifted and Mike smiled wide. 

“You’re right,” Mike beamed, looking a little sheepish. He stepped away and glanced to the side, scratching at the back of his head. “Thanks Chuckles.”

“Anytime,” Chuck smiled back. 

The room grew brighter as the shadows grew longer. Sunrise was upon them; a new day born again, another Kane attack waiting on the horizon. Julie was due back in a few hours and Dutch was sure to pop out of his room not long before then. Knowing Texas, he’d be the last to show, but still pretty early in the morning. A chill breeze blew past, rustling up hair and clothing. Chuck walked up to Mike and squeezed his shoulder, the two of them looking out towards the horizon. 

“Morning already, huh...” 

“You coming in? Not too late to grab a few zzz’s.”

Mike elbowed his co-pilot, his usual cheeriness back in his tone. There was something about the fresh chill wind and the warm sunlight on his face that helped rejuvenate him more, adding onto the moral boost he already received. He gestured towards Mutt and the gates.

“Why don’t you stay up with me for once? Watch the sunrise and relax a bit?”

“...I dunno, don’t we have to be up in a few hours?” Chuck mumbled hesitantly, giving his infamous side glance, rubbing his arm now. 

“Then what’s a few hours early?” Mike persisted. “C’mon, you haven’t lived till you’ve seen the sun over Motorcity.”

“I bet that’s got nothing on riding shotgun,” Chuck huffed, pouting. “I think I’ve lived enough to be an old man now, thanks.” 

“Aw, don’t be a spoilsport,” Mike egged on. “Just this once, please?”

Mike took a step forward and spun around on his heels, slipping his hands in his back pockets. He looked up at Chuck, silently pleading with his eyes. Motorcity was brightening still. 

“Okay, okay, fine,” Chuck gave in. “I’ll go.”

“Yes!” Mike did a little fist pump before grabbing Chuck by the hand and speeding off towards Mutt. He could barely contain himself, his words rapidly spilling out, “C’mon, let’s go, let’s go, the sun’s almost up!” 

“W-Whaa, Mikey, hold on!! Woah!”


End file.
